


Doubt Thou the Stars are Fire ?

by allofmystudensrunaway



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV), Star Trek: The Next Generation, Supernatural, crossover - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Crossover, Destiel Smut Brigade, Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Superwholock, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-06-29 23:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15739059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofmystudensrunaway/pseuds/allofmystudensrunaway
Summary: Dean is an starfleet engineer, a veteran of the wars with the borg. His little brother Sam works security, Castiel is Dean’s therapist.John Watson is a Doctor (surprise), his husband Sherlock (like i said 24th century) runs the Enterprise’s Astrophysics department,  but life is not what it seems on the uss Enterprise and a mysterious visitor throws everything into disarray.





	1. Chapter 1

Another day in engineering, another day running diagnostics and pretending to care. Dean prodded the touch screen lazily. 'Christ I’m bored' two weeks running maintenance because he had accidentally, okay purposely, upset the first officer and he was dying of boredom. It wasn’t like he had meant to upset Riker, but the man made it so easy. All he had said was “you need some more ego with those poker chips” after losing a particularly expensive game of cards, okay maybe throwing the chips in Riker's face had not been a good idea either, but Dean was done. He was tired, his next scheduled leave was months away and he was still having nightmares about the bloody Borg. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand touched his shoulder.  
“You okay Winchester”. Dean turned round,  
“I’m fine Geordi” Lies, he admitted to himself. Geordi tipped his head and looked at him, even now Dean found the visor a little off putting.  
“Take the rest of the day off, maybe go to sick bay.”  
“I’m fine.” Dean turned back to his work.  
“I said take the day off lieutenant. Now”   
“Geordi..”  
“Dean, get the hell away from my warp engines,” and he went not gracefully and not without tapping the console lightly and whispering “see you later, Baby” to the ship, but still grateful to get out of there. He headed for ten forward in need of a drink, but willing to put up with synthehol for now. The place wasn’t crowded for once, one of the ships bands was playing Beatles music in the corner. He would have preferred Led Zeppelin, at least it wasn’t jazz. He ordered a beer at the bar and let himself start to unwind. He caught himself crooning along to the music “hey Jude, don’t make it bad, take a sad song and make it better”. He was well into his third synth-ale by the time his brother arrived from his shift on the bridge.  
“Hey what are you doing here, thought you were on till 18:00,” Sam sat down next to his brother, pulling his gold uniform straight and pushing his over long hair out of his eyes. Dean still didn’t know how Sam got away with it, it said something about how the senior officers saw them both. Sam, Worf’s golden boy could do no wrong, probably heading for lieutenant commander soon. While he just seemed to have the knack of pissing people off.   
“Geordi told me to take the day off.”  
“Oh good?” Sam sounded suspicious, Dean suppressed a sigh.  
“No not in a good way, he told me to go to sick bay.”  
“Well maybe you should, Dean”  
“Sammie I don’t need to go to sick bay, I’m fine. I just need a little R&R and I’ll be aces again,” lying again, lying to Sam was different though, his little brother didn’t need to be worrying about him. Sam sipped his drink they watched the stars slip by outside the window.  
“Dean when was the last time you slept properly, I heard you moving about last night.”  
“I sleep,” Dean stared into his glass to avoid his brother’s concerned gaze.  
“When? You look like terrible. you’re moody as hell, your attitude stinks. If you carry on like this you are going to end up in the brig.”  
“Sam leave it, please” Dean rubbed his eyes, the headache he had been putting up with on and off for weeks was back.  
“No Dean, I won’t leave it. You need help or do you think I don’t know about those bottles of scotch you have stashed in your room.”Sam at least had the decency to whisper the last bit of that sentence. Even so Dean glared at him.  
“You know what little brother,” Dean stood up and leaned over until he was inches from Sam’s shocked face. “I don’t care about any of this crap any more, our friends are dead because some idiot on the bridge made a stupid ass decision. Charlie and Kevin are dead.” Dean realised he was shouting, every one in ten forward was looking at him. He straightened up, swung round and collided with some one behind him, he looked up well, that’s just great.   
“Watch where you are going lieutenant.” Will Riker regarding him with his usual disapproving stare.  
“Sorry” Dean pushed past him.  
“Sorry what?”  
“Sorry sir” Dean took a step towards the door “Dick” he muttered.  
“I beg your pardon lieutenant!” Slowly Dean turned round. Riker was furious, his face red under that ridiculous beard. Dean grinned to himself, he approached the seething first officer until they were nose to nose, out of the corner of his eye he could see Sam getting out of his seat.  
“I said you are a dick, sir”  
“Winchester you are in serious trouble, I suggest you think about what you are doing.”  
“Uh Dean-” Sam reaching to yank him out of harms way.  
“Oh I know exactly what I am doing sir” Dean shrugged, he could feel his face twitching into a snarl, “You are an arrogant dick” He didn’t know he was going to throw the punch until it was already connecting with Riker’s nose, which it did with a satisfying crunch. Dean managed to land a kick to the first officers ribs before he was dragged away by Sam. He wasn’t done though, far from it. The rage he had been suppressing since wolf 359 was loose he flailed about punching anything within range. He slipped out of Sam’s grasp and rounded on his adversaries he felt the skin on his knuckles split as he laid out another security officer, but he didn’t care. A giant hand grabbed him from behind he twisted to find himself looking into the anger filled eyes of a Klingon, Dean screamed in rage and head butted him.  
He woke up sometime later in sick bay. He tried to get up only to find someone had strapped him down. Well that’s a good sign, he managed to raise his head and realised he was in one of the private rooms off the main sickbay, Sam was leaning his lanky frame against the wall arms folded staring at his brother with a mixture of anger and concern.   
“Oh look who is awake”  
“Shh Sam, what happened?” Dean let his head thump back down.  
“You don’t remember?” Sam’s face appeared above him.  
“Not all of it.”  
“You punched commander Riker in the face”  
“Yeah I remember that, felt good,” Dean grinned, Sam was not laughing though. “Come on Sammie, he had it coming.”  
“Do you have any idea, how much trouble you are in? you head butted Worf. The only reason you are not in the brig is because I told them you were mentally unstable.”  
“Well maybe I am” Dean wriggled a bit getting comfy. “So what are they going to do with me Sam?”  
“I don’t know,” Sam sounded really upset, Dean felt a twinge of guilt. How was this going to reflect on his brother? His little brother who he was damn sure would make captain one day.  
“Sam I’m sorry, I just-” He heard the doors swish open and clamped his mouth shut.  
“Hey Doc” He heard Sam say, before a pair of blue eyes attached to possibly the most handsome, no beautiful face Dean had ever seen slid into view above him.  
“Hi,” he managed, throat dry.  
“Hi,” a deep gravelly voice that made Deans palms suddenly very sweaty.  
“I’m your doctor, Castiel.”  
“First name or last”  
“Both, its normal where I am from” and where was that heaven? Dean found himself thinking. The Doctor flipped open his tricorder, ran it along Dean’s prostrate form. He smiled slightly obviously pleased at the results. “Your injuries have healed nicely, now if I remove these restraints will you behave?”  
“Yes Doc, I’ll behave.”   
“Good” The force holding him down disappeared. Dean sat up slowly, back muscles cramping. He smiled nervously at the Doctor.  
“So did it hurt?”  
“Did what hurt?” The Doc looked confused.  
“When you fell from heaven” He wiggled his eyebrows and ignored an irritated sigh from Sam, who was overly familiar with his brother’s terrible pick up lines. The Doctor tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.  
“That is inappropriate, especially since I am also your therapist.”  
“What!”  
“Lieutenant Winchester, you are in a lot of trouble, as I am sure your brother has pointed out. You have been indefinitely suspended pending psychological examination, by me.”  
“Oh come on, just throw me in the brig” Dean was getting angry again, and the pity he saw in those too blue eyes was not helping. The doctor laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  
“Dean, if Worf had not intervened that is where you would be. You are confined to quarters except for our sessions, do you understand?”  
“Yes” that came out more savagely than Dean intended. The doctor removed his hand nonplussed.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow at 1400 hours, Sam he is all yours if you want him.”  
“Not particularly,” Sam took a firm hold of Dean’s shoulder. “We are going home now.”  
“Dammit Sam”  
“Dean, for once in your life shut up.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is a trauma ridden veteran of the war with the Borg, Cas is his counselor. Things get weird when an unexpected visitor arrives on the USS Enterprise 1701-D.

Dean stared at the painting on the wall, some boring pastoral scene of Vulcan or somewhere, He hated waiting. He had been practically frogmarched to the therapy room by Sam, only to find the Doctor was running late. Sam had promptly abandoned him to return to the bridge with the promise that one of his fellow security types would escort Dean back to their cabin later. He shifted on the too low couch, there wasn’t enough room between the coffee table and the couch for him to stretch out his legs. Feeling cooped up wasn’t helping his irritation, he realised his hands had curled into fists without him noticing. Damn it, he stood up and paced the small room. How had he ended up like this? okay he had always been a bit of a rebel, but punching a senior officer? He stopped in front of the painting, not really even looking at it. The colours blended together, reds and browns and to Dean it looked like blood, he snatched the damn thing off the wall and threw it on the ground, the canvas tore. Dean stared at it breathing hard.  
“Well I was never really fond of that painting anyway,” The Doctor standing behind him, looking utterly un-fazed by his reaction.  
“Uh hi Doc, sorry about that,” he gestured to the ruined art apologetically.  
“Hello Dean and its fine, take a seat,” The Doctor sat down without waiting for Dean and watched him, head tilted slightly on one side. Dean perched on the edge of the couch, hands dangling between his knees. He had put down some of his original reaction to the doctor to a lingering concussion, it was disconcerting to realise that the guy really was that attractive. Dean decided that the carpet deserved a thorough visual study.   
“I’m sorry about the painting Doctor,” he repeated feeling like an idiot.  
“in this room you may call be by my name, Dean.”  
“Castiel? Bit of a mouthful!” As soon as it was out of his mouth Dean regretted it, he risked a glance at the doctor. Christ what is wrong with me, I’m acting like a teenager. He could feel the blush crawling across his cheeks and subjected the carpet to another long stare.  
“You can call me Cas if you can’t manage the whole thing,” That sounded like strangely like a flirtation to Dean, though with a voice like that everything sounded mildly suggestive. Dean put it down to his brains fuzzy state and stayed silent. “So do you want to talk about what happened in ten forward?”  
“Not really, I lost my temper. You should really just let them throw me in the brig now Doc, I mean Cas.”  
“Is that what you want?” The sympathy in Cas’ voice made Dean bristle, he snorted out a laugh.“You are angry.”  
“You’re not a betazoid by any chance?” Dean still couldn’t look at him.  
“No just very good at my job, which I can’t do unless you want my help,” Dean stood up again, he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to get rid of the tension.  
“Cas, I’m not really up for this whole therapy thing, I’ve just had enough,” The doc put aside the Padd he had been taking notes on and approached Dean, catching him in that intense gaze. Dean couldn’t look away.  
“I get that, but I’m here to help. Good things do happen, whether you believe that or not and sometimes whether you deserve them or not.” Cas was standing too close, Dean froze. His blood was thundering in his ears, right now he wanted nothing more than to land a kiss on those soft lips, rip off that uniform and – what the hell is wrong with me!  
“Have you never heard of personal space?” it came out as a growl, instead of backing off the Doctor leaned forward until he was practically nose to nose with Dean.  
“Control is very important to you isn’t it?” That did it, Dean scrambled back a couple of steps, putting the couch between him and the Doc. Cas just shook his head and let out a short laugh. “sit down Dean, I’m not going to eat you, for a start you are not my type. I said sit.” He pointed to the couch. Dean did as he was told. He sat, head down and hands clasped together and looking everywhere except at the Doctor. Cas had returned to his own seat seemingly un-fazed by what had transpired, he was totally relaxed legs stretched out in front of him and the PADD danglingly from his fingers. “So you lost some friends at wolf 359?”  
“Didn’t we all?, I’m nothing special”  
“Yes we did, but you Dean Winchester are the only crew member to actually punch the first officer.” Dean risked a glance at his tormentor, he wasn’t sure but the Doc sounded amused.  
“Well what can I say, he has a punchable face,” Dean’s legs were cramping again, he resisted the urge to get up and pace.  
“Are you sorry for hitting him?”  
“Yes” more lies, sorry I didn’t hit him harder, Cas seemed to pick up on the subtext, he skewered Dean with a stare of pure diamond.  
“Something tells me that was not a sincere response.” Cas’ eyes narrowed and he ran his tongue over his lips. The innocent gesture made Dean even more uncomfortable, he wriggled in his seat and hoped the blood rushing to his face was not noticeable, though he was more worried about the blood currently rushing somewhere else. He made a grab for the carafe of water on the coffee table and poured himself a glass, in his haste he spilt half of it on the gleaming wood.   
“Sorry” he gulped the water down, hoping it would relieve the dryness of his throat-it didn’t help much.  
“so why do you blame Commander Riker for the death of your friends?”  
“Charlie and Kevin” Dean glared at the Doctor, his anger was sparking again. He gritted his teeth with the effort of not exploding.  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“Their names were Charlie and Kevin and they were not just my friends, they were-” he stopped, the sympathy on Cas’ face made him feel worse, like oil on an already raging fire.   
“What were they to you Dean?”  
“Will you stop looking at me like that,” he hid his face in his hands. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, can I go back to my quarters please.”  
“I’m sorry Dean, but we have to talk about this. You need to move past-”  
“Maybe I don’t want to, maybe this is who I am now. Talking about it won’t bring them back that’s if they are dead of course, if they weren’t turned into drones.” there it was out, he had voiced the thing that had been bubbling away in his unconscious and giving him nightmares for months.   
“Their bodies were never found.”  
“No”  
“I’m sorry”  
“Why are you sorry? you didn’t give the orders. You didn’t drag the entire crew after just one man!” Dean stopped short, he noticed the wet warmth on his cheeks and scrubbed the offending tears away. He wanted to stop, but the words were poring out of him in a seething stinking mess, “They were right next to me, I should have saved them.” Silence suffocating everything, Dean could hear the Doctor breathing, but he wasn’t paying attention to Cas now. Instead he prodded his pain like a sore tooth feeling its sting in new ways and remembering everything. Laughing with Charlie about his ex-boyfriend, back when they had served on the Lexington and Kevin, Sam’s room-mate at the academy too young really for active duty, but so damn smart the powers that be had made an exception. He was so lost in his memories, he didn’t notice Cas stand up and stretch.  
“I think that will do for today, Lieutenant. We’ve made some progress.”  
“That’s it?”  
“For now, go home”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has trouble dealing with confinement.

Dean sprawled on the couch, a heavy antique tumbler of prohibited scotch in his hand. He drank it down in one gulp and poured himself another. The meeting with the doctor, with Castiel, had stirred up a bunch of memories that he really did not want to deal with. He twisted the glass, watching the light sparkle in the cut edges. The slivers of brightness reminded him of sparks, embers dying, remembered screams echoed in his mind. He closed his eyes and willed the memory away, concentrating on the feel of the glass in his hand. “I’m sorry”, he told the lurking shadows. There was a swoosh as the doors opened and Sam breezed in.  
“Dude have you been lying there all afternoon”. His brother pulled a disgusted face at him, Dean just smirked at him and raised his glass.  
“and how was your day Sammy?”  
“More productive than yours obviously, how did go with the Doctor?”  
“Yes Mom, I talked to the damned Doctor.” Dean sipped at his scotch, Sam stared at him open mouthed.  
“Are you drinking, Dean haven’t you learned your lesson? You may be facing a court-martial” Sam tried, unsuccessfully to snatch the glass out of Dean’s hand. Dean stood up with a groan and faced his brother.  
“Yes Sam, I am drinking. I have nothing better to do, I’m stuck in these four walls, until they decide what to do with me.” he finished the glass, putting it down on the table with a clunk. “I am at the mercy of others” He spread his hands wide, bowed to Sam then sat back down heavily. He thought about pouring another drink, but decided to cut out the middleman and instead, swigged straight from the bottle. “tell your pal Sanchez to hurry up next time, I had to wait an age for him to walk me home.”  
“Well sorry, we were kind of busy on the bridge today,” Sam muttered.  
“Sarcasm Sammy? Really?” Dean grinned at his brother, he was starting to feel nicely fuzzy, “So what’s shaking upstairs, anything interesting”  
“Dean, you know I’m not allowed to tell you.”  
“Oh come on Sam, I’m dying of boredom here.”  
“Dean, no.” Sam disappeared into his room and came back with his gym bag. “I have to go, I’m teaching Worf’s Mok’bara class tonight.”  
“Teachers pet” Dean snorted, “So you’re just going to leave me here alone?”  
“Yes Dean, I still have a career.” Sam said sharply, Dean was hurt, it must have shown on his face because Sam’s expression softened. “Are you going to be alright?”  
“Right as rain, Sam. I’m just gonna sit here drink my whisky and think about that cute little doctor” Dean wiggled his eyebrows “If you catch my meaning”  
“Dean that’s gross”  
“You love me, brother”  
“I’m starting to wonder why, I’ll see you later.”   
Once Sam was gone everything was too quiet, Dean wished he had asked him to stick around. The idea of being alone was suddenly unappealing, too many screams could hide in silence. He gripped the neck of the bottle with sweat slick fingers, as his heart began to pound. He needed to hit something, the only thing that worked, turning the fear into anger. Because the fear was turning the shadows of the room into other things, was that Charlie in the corner? Her face white, disfigured by the implants encrusting her skin. The doorbell pulled him out of it, it’s insistent chiming violently dragging him back to reality.  
“Come in” he managed to mutter and staggered to his feet. The doors slid open and there was Castiel, his face creased with concern.  
“Hello Dean”  
“Hi Doc” Dean tried to straighten up, uncomfortably aware of the tears on his cheeks and the whisky bottle dangling from his fingers. He attempted to concentrate on the blurry figure in front of him, but his heart was still trying to burst out of his chest.  
“Your brother asked me to come check on you, he said you were inebriated.”  
“He would be right, I’m sorry” Dean’s breath hitched in his throat, strangling his words.   
“Are you okay?” Castiel covered the distance between them in three quick strides, the door shut behind him. Gently he prised the bottle from Dean’s grasp placing it on the table.  
“You know what, Doc? I don’t think I am” he could almost see Charlie still, no it wasn’t her. It was just the way the light fell.   
Strong hands gripped his shoulders, “Lieutenant you are having a panic attack exacerbated by alcohol, you need to look at me” Dean made himself focus on the intense blue eyes, only a few inches away. “Take a few deep breaths,” Castiel’s fingers encircled his wrist, pressing on the pulse point.  
“Doc,I can’t-”  
“Do as you are told lieutenant,” the Doctors voice was almost a growl. Dean complied air hissing through his teeth. After a while his heart slowed, he still felt disconnected like swimming through fog.  
“Why do I still see them sometimes” he didn’t mean to say that out loud, Castiel’s eyes widened.  
“It’s going to be alright, come sit down.” He pushed him down on the couch, fetched him a glass of water and sat down opposite Dean.   
“Who do you see?”   
“Charlie, sometimes Kevin, I know they are not real, are you going to tell anybody about this?”  
“I’m your Doctor first Dean, what goes in my report is up to me.”  
“And what about that” Dean nodded at the whisky bottle.  
“Will you get rid of it?”  
“Yes”  
“Then I haven’t seen it.” Castiel smiled at him, a small half smile that tugged his mouth to one side. Despite his drunken confused state, that smile made Dean’s breath catch in his throat. Embarrassed, he looked down at his hands, hoping the doctor wouldn’t notice his flaming red cheeks.  
“Why are you doing this?”  
“we all have our demons, Dean”  
“But Doc-”  
“Castiel, or Cas if you prefer.” his tone was insistent, Dean sneaked a glance at his face, there was something needy buried in those eyes.  
“alright, Cas” he tested the name on his tongue, liked how it felt. “Why did you come here tonight, we could have discussed this tomorrow”  
“Because you needed help now.” Cas stood up and crossed to the replicator, “I’m going to give you something to help you sleep.”  
“I’m sure I could give you something-” it was out of his mouth before he could stop it, but Cas just smiled again and wagged a finger at him.  
“I’m your Doctor, Dean” he tapped the replicator, “medical override, authorisation Castiel, alpha six two. 10 cc’s Ambizine.” Dean surreptitiously watched Cas as he waited for the replicator to whip a hypo-spray into existence. He liked the compact way Cas moved, no energy wasted. If Cas had noticed his surveillance he made no sign, he just pressed the hypo-spray into Dean’s neck. “this will take about ten minutes to effect you, I suggest you go to bed now.”  
“Thanks Cas.”  
“I’ll see you tomorrow, for our session 1200hours don’t be late.”   
“It’s a date” Dean found he was grinning, Cas just shook his head and left. “Oh he wants me” he told the empty room, which promptly began to spin. “Okay bed time I think”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is an starfleet engineer, a veteran of the wars with the borg. His little brother Sam works security, Castiel is Dean’s therapist.John Watson is a Doctor (surprise), his husband Sherlock (like i said 24th century) runs the Enterprise’s Astrophysics department, but life is not what it seems on the uss Enterprise and a mysterious visitor throws everything into disarray.  
> usual warnings, canon, violence, drinking, cw for panic attacks and ptsd. Established Bi!Dean (it’s the 24th century after all)

Sherlock couldn’t sleep, it was one of those nights when his brain would not shut down. Ignoring the cramps in his legs he lay as still as he could and listened to John’s snores. He was loathe to disturb his slumbering husband, he knew John had had a busy day in sickbay, but he could sense the mania beginning to cloud over his mind. That feeling as his neurons fired too fast and his skull seemed too small, he felt wrong. Carefully he shifted onto his back, stretching his toes out, trying to focus on bodily sensation the way Counsellor Troi had shown him. It didn’t work, not this time, his mind had other ideas. He gave in swinging his legs out of bed as smoothly as possible. He paused by their daughters crib; Rosamund was sound asleep, fists waving in some infant dream, satisfied Sherlock padded into the living room and sat himself down at his desk.   
Out of habit he switched on the monitor, he didn’t need the computer for this work really, but the lights cast a cheery glow in the darkness. He glanced out the window, the streaming stars told him they were coasting along at warp three. He still felt odd, disconnected, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing his brain to slow down. “This is real, this is your real life” he re-assured himself and refused to acknowledge the sensation. ‘I’m not going down that road again’, he focused instead on the up-coming mission, three black-holes orbiting each other and he had to work out a way of cutting through the violent, heaving mess of energy to scan each of them.  
For a while the intricate dance and interplay of matter and energy kept him occupied. He examined the previous survey data, which was sparse and since it was two decades old, now nearly obsolete. The presence of both tachyon and tetryon particles had been noted, which was not unexpected though the concentrations made Sherlock frown. His communicator was lying on the desk, he tapped it. “Holmes to Data”  
“Data here, Good evening Mr Holmes.” Data’s voice was as expressionless as ever, however Sherlock still thought he could hear a note of amusement. Yet again he cursed his mother for naming him after some dusty old book.  
“Hi Data, I was just reviewing the original survey. There are some odd concentrations of sub-atomic particles recorded.”  
“The tetryon and tachyon emissions ?”  
“Yes, intriguing, if it is not an error.” Sherlock drummed his fingers on the desk, he could see them in his mind. Three revenant stars spinning in perfect harmony, perfectly balanced, perfectly matched and devouring everything in their path like cosmic vampires.  
“A mystery indeed, do you have a hypothesis?”  
“About twenty, I thought perhaps we could run some simulations tomorrow.”Annoying as Data’s pre-occupation with his literary namesake was, he was one of the few people Sherlock felt comfortable collaborating with. Most of his staff couldn’t keep up.  
“I have a meeting in engineering at 0800 hours, I will be free from 1100.”  
“Perfect, I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
“Goodnight Mr Holmes”  
Sherlock sat very still, he had a plan of attack now. Usually that alone would have served to settle his neurons into a more regular train of thought. The other thing was nagging at him though, the sense of wrongness. Not just with their current mission, but with everything. Sherlock stared at his hands, flexing his fingers. Where was this sensation coming from?   
A soft cry from Rosamund broke his concentration, he heard John groan as he was woken by their daughter’s cries.  
“Sherlock, what are you doing up?”  
“I couldn’t sleep John, brains racing.” he spun the chair round. John cradling Rosamund  
against his chest, his family, the only thing he knew was right in a world subtly out of kilter.  
“I’ll get Madame’s nappy changed, come back to bed Sherlock” John raised his eyebrows at him, “It’s four in the morning, even you need to sleep.”  
“I’ll just keep you awake,” Sherlock made himself smile in what he hoped was a reassuring way, his husband wasn’t fooled, John pulled a disapproving face.  
“This isn’t going to be Cantor V all over again is it?”  
“No I promise, no unexpected surprises.”  
“Okay good, Do you want a sedative?”  
“John I’ll go for a run, calm myself down.” Sherlock stood up and kissed John lightly, then looked down at Rosamund. “You better change her nappy, she smells awful.” John sniffed carefully.  
“Eww you are right. Go run, but take a couple of hours off tomorrow. Doctors orders.”  
“John I’m the head of astrophysics, I can’t just take a day off.” John rolled his eyes.  
“Not a day, A couple of hours. See you later.” 

“He was up till gone six” John complained and stabbed his fried breakfast, spearing a piece of bacon. “I mean it Cas, I cannot go through another Cantor V.”   
“Is he showing any other symptoms?” Cas asked gently, he and John were eating breakfast in Ten-forward as they did at least twice a week. The ship’s bar was quiet on this particular day, Cas was grateful. His own late night had left him with both a physical headache he couldn’t seem to shift and a professional one, that he didn’t really want to tackle. John was chewing thoughtfully and staring out at stars as they rushed past.  
“Not that I can definitely identify. He just seems off.” John shook his head, “Maybe it’s just me, I worry too much.” Cas reached over and squeezed his friend’s hand briefly.  
“John, you are my oldest friend. I’ve known you since medical school. If your instincts are telling you something is wrong, then we should check.”  
“I worry so much about him and now we have Rosy” his voice trailed off, Cas realised his friend was blinking back tears.  
“It’s going to be okay, I’ll talk to Deanna, he is still seeing her?”  
“Yes, by some miracle.”  
“Well you fell in love with him” Cas laughed and sat back in his chair, John grinned at him.  
“That I did, Cas. So what about you? Everything okay?” John tucked back into his meal with gusto, Cas let out a groan. “Well that didn’t sound very positive, What’s eating you? Or rather who?”  
“John don’t”  
“Sorry mate, I just want you to be happy.” John shrugged, Cas tried to keep his face neutral, but he must have let some sign show, because John stopped eating and pinned him in place with a look. “Okay what is it?”  
“It’s nothing, really.”  
“As you said, I’m your oldest friend. You can’t fool me.” John folded his arms, “I’m waiting.”  
“I’m having some difficulty with one of my psych patients, I was wondering if you would take him.”   
“Why?”   
“I’m worried that I may do something, unprofessional.” Cas kept his voice low, feeling ridiculous. John pursed his lips, his expression serious.  
“Cas, I will help obviously, but why me?”  
“You have more experience with combat stress than I do, I’m out of my depth and-”  
“And you like this guy” John interrupted.  
“Yes.” Cas looked away, embarrassed.  
“Okay, I’ll take him. If only so you finally get laid! How long ago was Balthazar?”   
“Long enough”  
“So who is the mystery man, who has your pants in a twist?”  
“Its, uh Dean Winchester.” John just looked at him, incredulous.  
“The guy who punched Will Riker?”  
“Yes”  
“Cas, you have terrible taste in men”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has a decision to make about his future, Dean discusses the past with his new therapist..who he is not especially pleased to find out is no longer a certain blue eyed hotty, John watson wonders if his best friend is just terminally unable to fall for someone totally sane.

Sam rubbed his palms on his uniform trousers and tried not to show any outward sign of the panic currently gripping his entire being and yet knowing he was failing miserably. The Captain had asked to see him. The Captain who was now sat in front of him with an inscrutable expression that Sam could not read. “So Lieutenant Winchester, you are probably wondering why I asked to see you.” Picard settled back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. Sam had trouble finding his voice.

“wel-”Too high, he covered it with a cough he risked a direct look at Picard, who seemed to be regarding him with bemusement. Sam felt his cheeks flare, _“just like i’m a stupid kid”_ he rebuked himself sternly and made himself meet Picard’s gaze. “I suppose you want to talk about Dean? It’s not his fault, he’s sick!Sir” leaping to Dean’s defence-again, how many times had he done that?

“Actually Lieutenant yes. But first I want to discuss your future, Mr Worf asked me to talk to you.”

“Worf?” Sam was confused, he sorted through the last few days in his head. Had he done something to annoy the Klingon?

“Mr Worf is concerned because you were offered the post of security chief on the USS Liaoning and you declined.”

“oh” Sam couldn’t think, he knew he was gawping like a goldfish, he couldn’t help it. Picard didn’t notice.

“So, Sam?” Picard looked him, head tilted slightly to one side, finger tapping his cheek. Sam bit his lip, the captain had called him by his first name, he scrambled for an answer.

“Um It’s just the wrong time Sir, I’m not fully confidant I could do it.”

“Mr Worf thinks otherwise”

“With all due respect Sir” Sam held out his hands “I have the right to decline the promotion.”

“Yes you do” Picard nodded, “But Mr Worf is concerned about your reasons for doing so.”

“Sir my reasons are my own.”

“Yes they are” Picard leaned forward, hands steepled together. “Sam, I’m going to tell you something” He paused again, eyes flicking over Sam, measuring. “Some people don’t come home from the battle some of us- I mean some people carry it with them for a long time” Picard’s eyes looked inwards for a moment, Sam found himself wondering how much of the battle Picard was still carrying. “your brother needs help. This is not something you should fix, it’s something he has to fix” Picard sighed.

“But sir-” Sam interrupted, Picard waved him into silence.

“You are an excellent officer Sam, you have an exceptional record. You have a bright future”

“But what about Dean?”

“That’s up to your brother, if his psyche evaluation is clean, he will be court marshalled. He did strike a superior officer.”

“And that means?” Sam wanted very badly to stand up and pace out his anxiety.

“Dis-honourable discharge, I will do my best for him, but I cannot make any promises.” Picard’s tone was steely, Sam could hear the compassion in it though. He scrubbed his hand’s over his face and shifted in his chair.

“Sir, I honestly don’t know what Dean will do if he can’t be in starfleet. Being an engineer was all he ever wanted to do.”

“I am sorry about your brother, Think about what I have said. You’re dismissed”

 

“Hello I’m Doctor Watson, I’m your therapist.” John smiled brightly at Dean and received a furious glare in return. _“well that bodes well”_

“You are not my doctor,” Dean jabbed a finger at him, John raised an eyebrow. Clearly Dean was not happy.

“Yes I am,” John looked down making a show of reading his pad.

“Why!” lot of anger in that voice, lot of resentment, John made a note. He still didn’t look up though.

“Doctor Castiel requested I take over, I have more experience with combat stress.”

“Well that’s a bullshit excuse”

“Nevertheless, it is the reason. Your expectations don’t come into it. I am your Doctor.” John looked at Dean finally. He was hunched up, hands clasped together in front of him, whole being vibrating with suppressed rage. _“Well thanks for this one Cas”_ John muttered in the privacy of his head. “I see you’ve been having panic attacks.”

“One panic attack, it was one.”

“That’s a lie isn’t it, lieutenant Winchester?”Caught out Deans eyes darted round the room and he stretched out his arms. _“don’t like being cooped up do you”_ John sat back and stretched his legs out in front of him, ignoring the old ache where his muscles knotted together in his leg _._

“Maybe I have had more than one” a grudging answer, but at least he was talking. “were you born in England?” he was trying to deflect the conversation.

“Yes”

“That explains the accent, I went there once.”

“You did?”

“When, when I was a kid Sammy was a baby.” The memory seemed to distract Dean, he even smiled a little.

“With your parents.” John asked quietly, Dean immediately looked away, _“sore spot”_ John decided.“So your Mother died when you were a child, Yes?”

“Do we have to talk about this.”

“I think we do, so what happened?”

Dean snorted and turned away to stare at the wall instead. “Why don’t you tell me, it’s all on there isn’t it” he gestured to the padd.

“I’d rather you told me.”

“House burned down end of story.” Dean slapped the couch.

“And your father died sometime ago as well”

“He was killed on an away mission.”

“Says here he left star fleet and reenlisted after your mother died.”

“So?”John noticed that Dean’s voice had lost some of it’s brittleness.

“Must have been hard, you and your brother were quite young at the time.”

“It was fine, we stayed at uncle Bobby’s, then when we were older and Dad was stationed on a star-base we went to him. Must have seen half the federation.” Dean was scowling again, his change in mood was swift, “But what has all that to do with, watching my friends get slaughtered by those things?”

“Dean” John let his formal tone shift a little, he was talking soldier to soldier now, “you can’t save everyone, that’s a painful lesson that we all have to learn.” Dean nodded, John wondered how much of that Dean had taken in, enough to trigger a little introspection? He hoped so. “Doctor Castiel prescribed you Ambizine for the panic attacks?”

“Yes” The reply was barely audible, John hoped he hadn’t pushed him too far.

“I’ll give you a hypospray, it’s set for the correct dose. Use it when you need too.” John held out the hypospray, Dean took it gingerly.

“Thanks”

“I’ll see you for our session tomorrow, wait here for your escort” John stood up and walked to the door.

“Doctor before you go? Did Castiel have a message for me?” Hopeful tone in the voice.

“ _Uh oh feelings mutual then”_ John groaned internally _“Cas you have out done yourself this time”_ “No” John lied automatically, the last thing he needed to deal with was a tangled love affair. Feeling mildly guilty he headed back to sick bay, hoping for something less complicated to deal with.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get sticky for the crew of the enterprise D

Sam returned to the bridge feeling conflicted, on one hand he was annoyed that Worf had gone to the Captain, but on the other he was mildly gratified that the chief of security had so much faith in him. He joined the Klingon at tactical, Worf acknowledged Sam’s return with a slight nod. “Continue running diagnostics on the aft shield emitters, there is a combat drill scheduled for 1500.” Worf rumbled and strode off down the ramp to sit in the Captain’s chair. Sam smiled to himself, Worf always looked a little unsettled when sitting on the plush leather seat, as if such comfort irked him. Maybe it did? Klingons were not exactly known for their relaxed natures.

Sam checked the progress of the diagnostic and let himself relax a little, everything seemed to be in order. He glanced at the aft science station and got a shy smile from the pretty ensign stationed there. She was newly transferred and had been in his class the night before, he smiled back, maybe his luck was changing.

“Sir” Vasquez at the conn suddenly piped up, his voice cutting through the usual murmured conversation of the bridge. Worf stood up.

“What is it lieutenant?”

“Sensors are picking up an unknown vessel at least I think it’s a vessel. it’s quite small could be an escape pod”

“Drop out of warp” Worf ordered and the ship slowed, the kaleidoscope pattern of warp space returning to a normal star field.“Where is it?”Worf’s voice was tight. Sam felt his neck prickle with anticipation, he halted the diagnostic and got ready to bring the shields online if needed.

“About five hundred metres off our port side.”

“Why didn’t we pick it up sooner?” Worf stepped forward to peer at Vasquez’s console.

“As I said sir, it’s quite small barely registers on our sensors.” Vasquez replied with more fire than Sam himself could have managed. Worf didn’t seem to notice, he turned to Sam.

“yellow alert Lt. Winchester, hailing frequencies open.”

“Aye sir, yellow alert” Sam entered the protocol and the computer began to announce the status change to the crew. “hailing frequencies now open sir.”

“This is Lt. Commander Worf of the federation star ship Enterprise to unknown vessel, identify yourself” the answer was nothing but static.

“No response,” Behind Sam the turbo lift doors opened spilling Picard, Riker and Data on to the bridge. The captain was frowning he was out of uniform and carrying a riding hat in one hand. He had left the bridge after talking to Sam and his expression indicated that he was not amused at his rec period being interrupted.

“What is going on Mr Worf?” Picard demanded as the senior officers took their stations.

“My apologies sir, but we detected an unknown vessel, so far no response to our hails.”

“very good Mr Worf, keep hailing them. Mr Data, put our unexpected guest on the view screen.” The camera angle shifted to show the port nacelle it’s bussard collector glowing faintly red. Sam squinted, there was something small and dark floating near the hull, at a nod from Picard he magnified the image. “mon dieu” Sam heard the Captain whisper under his breath.

“Is that what I think it is?” Riker pointed at the screen, Sam saw concerned looks pass between the bridge team, _‘what’s going on?’_ he wondered in the privacy of his head. The thing on the screen was weird, a small blue, seemingly wooden box.

“I think it is number one, Mr Winchester open a channel.”

“Aye sir” baffled by the sudden concern emanating from the bridge crew, Sam did as he was ordered. “Channel open.”

 

The Doctor was not entirely sure where she was, one minute she had been taking the newly updated TARDIS for a test run around the sun and back. The next thing the old girl had started shaking and bucking like a wild horse. A shower of sparks had arched over her head before some kind of feedback had knocked to her onto the deck. She woke up with a cut on her chin and a head full of blinding light. She pulled herself upright and planted herself in front of the console screen, muttering darkly to the Tardis,“I’m gonna be late for tea at Graham’s”. The Doctor stared at the screen in confusion, the stars were in the wrong place. “Well that’s just brilliant”, she studied the star charts for a minute before a fuzzy memory poked her or rather flicked it’s ridiculous fringe and straightened it’s bow-tie at her. _I’ve been here before,_ okay maybe not her exactly, him, but still her. Another memory, an even older one tapped its nose and twirled a bizarrely long scarf at her, _Okay I’ve been here twice._

A quick glance at the date told her it had been a year in normal space- time since her last visit. It had been considerably longer than that for her- several billion years and two regenerations longer, ‘ _I_ _hope_ _I can remember everyone’s names’._

“Doctor this is the Enterprise do you require our assistance?”

“Which one?” She asked

“Picard, is that you Doctor?”

“Last time I checked” she coughed and tried to ignore the fact the Tardis was starting to spin around her “A lift wouldn’t go a miss, Jean Luc.”

“shuttle bay three is clear, do you require medical assistance?”

“Aye, that’d be brilliant took a bit of a knock to the head.”

“Doctor Crusher will meet you when you come aboard.”

“Alright then, Oh and Jean-luc?”

“yes Doctor?”

“Tardis is a bit banged up, need a tow”

“Understood” She let herself sink back to the deck and back braced against the console base, closed her eyes. There was a barely perceptible lurch as the Enterprises tractor beam snagged the Tardis and guided it into her shuttle bay, _‘like a swan ushering a recalcitrant cygnet into her wings’_ , the Doctor giggled at her own flowery metaphor, maybe her head was more messed up than she thought.

A reassuringly soft thud announced that she was safely onboard. She stood up, smoothed her coat down and stomped down the ramp, flinging the doors open with a grin.“Beverly! Jean-Luc! It is brilliant to see you again” she lurched forward and hugged Doctor Crusher and a very surprised Picard, “I know the last time you saw me I was a brunette and had a posh accent, but I’m blonde and a bit northern now” her legs were threatening to give way she spun round to hide it “I was an angry Scotsman for a while too-” her head betrayed her, the lights became blinding and she sagged to her knees, “I think maybe I am a little poorly”

 

John walked into sickbay and found the place buzzing with activity. Doctor Crusher was working on an unconscious blonde woman he didn’t recognise, while the Captain and Worf stood close by sharing worried looks. Beverly looked up and saw him loitering. “Doctor Watson, I need your assistance!” he ran over catching the medical tricorder she tossed to him.

“What’s the story here Doctor?” John raised his eyebrows at the readings displayed on the tricorder, “Doctor Crusher this patient is saturated with chronometric particles.”

“With this patient, I’m not surprised. It’s not important.” Beverly shrugged and attached a cortical stimulator to the woman’s forehead.

“I don’t recognise her species?”

“I’d be surprised if you did. She is in some kind of neural shock, keep an eye on her brain activity.”

“Yes ma’am” John looked away to boot up the nearest console. A loud gasp from his patient grabbed his attention, she was sat up holding her chest.

“Doctor, you are okay, you are in sickbay” Beverly reassured her, the Doctor just stared at her with round shocked eyes.

“Sickbay? Ahh that’s right, knocked my head didn’t I?” She reached up and pulled off the cortical stimulator. “I think I am alright now though, where’s Jean-Luc?” she looked around wildly.

“I’m right here Doctor, you should rest.”

“Sorry no time, we have things to talk about.” She slid off the biobed and looked at John quizzically. “I’m sorry have we met? You look familiar.”

“No I don’t think so.” John didn’t like the way she was frowning at him.

“Oh right, well I’m The Doctor.”

“Sorry Doctor who?”

“No just the Doctor and you are” she smiled at him.

“John Watson, Doctor Watson”

“Really? Interesting.” The Doctor gave him another speculative look, as if she were trying to figure him out.

Raised voices distracted his attention, he glanced towards the sound only to be greeted with the sight of Sherlock being held back by two nurses. His husband saw him and tried to slip out of their grasp. “John!”

“Sherlock what the hell-” he took a few steps forward, Sherlock thrashed about eyes wild.

“John, you have to tell them!”

“What is going on here” Picard demanded as Worf surged forward to help restrain Sherlock.

“I’m sorry sir I don’t know” John apologised. “Sherlock calm down, look at me.” he tried to distract his husband as out of the corner of his eye he saw Beverly palm a hypospray. Sherlock twisted and somehow escaped his captors grip, he ran forwards but stopped in front of the Doctor.

“It’s you” he hissed, “Everything is wrong and it has something to do with you” he jabbed a finger at her. John saw Beverly gesture at Worf, the Klingon lunged forward and pinioned Sherlock’s arms behind his back and wrestled him down on the biobed, quick as lightening Beverly pressed the hypospray to his neck.

“Hold him, it works quickly.” John watched Sherlock lapse into unconsciousness.

“I’m so sorry, he hasn’t been well-”

“It’s alright Doctor Watson” the Doctor smiled at him sadly and gripped his shoulder. “He’s right though”

“What do you mean?” John asked, trying not to let his voice reflect how broken he was feeling, _‘i can’t do this again.’_

“Something is wrong” .

“With what?” Picard was frowning.

“With everything Jean-Luc, with everything.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> looks like the universe maybe in trouble, Cas deals with a once again drunk Dean, sam meets someone we all love and miss and the doctor starts putting things together.

Cas reached out to press the call button, but hesitated. He was almost one hundred percent sure this was a terrible idea. He let his hand drop back down to his side and glared at the door to dean’s quarters. Yes bad idea, he had managed to convince himself that it was okay, Dean wasn’t his patient any more and he was free to explore the inexplicable attraction he felt for him and yet, it still felt wrong. “Pull yourself together” he gave himself a mental shake, this was getting ridiculous.  
The door choose that moment to open and Sam strode out nearly colliding with Cas, who took a step back an embarrassed smile crawling across his face, he scrambled for an excuse as to why he was stood outside their quarters looking like a love struck teenager.  
“Ahh Doctor? You here to see Dean?”   
“Um yes, just a house call” Cas lied, his cheeks suddenly hot. Sam gave him a confused look and shrugged.  
“Well he’s up, for a change. See if you can talk some sense into him. God knows he won’t listen to anyone else” Sam hit the button and the doors slid open. “I have a shift on the bridge, see you later”  
Cas nodded and unwillingly stepped inside, Dean wasn’t in the main living area. Through there were signs of his presence, an empty whisky bottle stood on the table next to a pile of holographs. Cas picked one of them up gingerly, A younger Dean and his brother posing on the front lawn of the academy displaying cheesy grins for the camera. He put the picture down carefully, next to one he assumed was Dean’s mother, a pretty blond woman smiling for the camera.  
“Dean?! He called, a startled shout followed by a thump from one of the bedrooms and Dean appeared he was wrapped in an old grey robe his expression belligerent.  
“What are you doing here.”  
“Sam let me in.”  
“I didn’t ask how you got in, I asked what are you doing here”  
“I came to see how how you are.”that was answered with a grunt. “are you drinking again?” Dean plumped himself down on the couch and picked up the empty bottle.  
“no” he answered sulkily, “At least not right now, that was the last of my stash.”   
“Nice to know you stopped for all of twenty four hours” Cas sat down opposite and tried to act casual.  
“like you care, you dumped me on that other Doctor”  
“John has more experience-”  
“Bullshit,” Dean grinned as if he had scored a point. “So why’d you do it? Why did you drop me?” a loaded question that, Cas stared at his feet. Anything he said now could be used against him and considering Dean’s rage probably would be. “Why am I always attracted to assholes” Cas stood up, “this is pointless”  
“No Cas, it’s not pointless” Dean got up as well, he jabbed an index finger in his direction, Cas realised he was still drunk.  
“Dean, I’ll come back when you are sober.”  
“wait, I’m sorry” Dean lurched around the table and blocked his exit.  
“lieutenant Winchester get out of my way.” Cas’ own anger was rising, John was right he had terrible taste in men.  
“Look I’m sorry I just need you to listen, just for a minute, please” Dean seemed to collapse in on himself, Cas saw tears in his eyes. “I promise. Just one minute then you can walk out of here and I’ll leave you alone.”  
“Fine, one minute” Cas folded his arms and directed what he hoped was an intimidating stare at Dean’s stricken face.  
“Okay, I am a mess, I can’t help that but” he paused Cas thought about walking out, was this drunk idiot really what he was after. “but, all this” Dean gestured encompassing the whole ship, “is wrong, we’re wrong. You and me we should be together, not here though. Here is wrong.” he fell back on the sofa. “I don’t know what I’m saying.” he concluded hopelessly.  
“I think maybe you need your meds”  
“No Cas it’s not that, don’t you feel it?”  
“feel what Dean?”  
“The wrongness” Dean’s expression pleaded with him to agree. Cas took a deep breath, he was appalled he had never got a diagnosis this wrong before. He wondered if John knew the extent of their patient’s psychosis.  
“Dean, I think you need to sleep.” he edged round the table and firmly took Deans arm and guided him towards his bedroom. He went meekly enough, climbed into bed and let Cas pull the covers over him.  
“You could stay.” Dean rumbled as Cas turned to leave.  
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Cas told him softly, even though the idea of climbing into bed with a warm body after so long sleeping alone had it’s attractions, even if that body was a mildly psychotic, if gorgeous ex-patient.  
“You’re probably right” Dean sighed sleepily, Cas watched as his eyes fluttered closed, “Hey Cas?”  
“Yes Dean?”  
“Check on the kid before you come to bed.”  
“What kid?” Cas demanded, but Dean was already fathoms deep. Cas left quietly, his mind ringing with that final question and a growing sense of disquiet. ‘I need to talk to John’

As it turned out Sam had been pre-emptively pulled from his bridge shift by Worf and sent to Shuttlebay three for guard duty. Initially he had been excited about getting close to the visitor’s craft. But after a couple of hours his fervour had cooled since all they were guarding was a slightly weird little blue box. It didn’t even look like a ship, in fact it didn’t look much like anything Sam had ever seen. He shifted uncomfortably trying to ease his cramping leg muscles and attracted the attention of his fellow conscript.  
“Bored Sam?” Eileen grinned at him.  
“Very funny” Sam’s fingers inexpertly formed the signs, he was rusty as hell.   
“You know you don’t have to do that, I can read lips.” The grin widened into a smile, Sam shuffled his feet.  
“I know, but I need the practice. I’ve not really used sign language since the academy.” Sam knew he was babbling, he couldn’t stop, “Not federation standard anyway, I learned Vulcan sedem-ded when my Dad was stationed there and when we were on Bolia-” Eileen laid a finger on his lips.  
“I get it Sam and I appreciate it, reminds me of home.”  
“Oh good, I guess.” ‘Shut up Sam you clumsy oaf’ he told himself sternly, he hoped Eileen wasn’t offended. She took a step back and tilted her head looking at him critically.  
“Dinner, tonight ten forward?” her fingers formed the signs slowly purposefully, she raised an eyebrow at him. Sam managed to nod, he rocked his fist backwards and forwards in the affirmative, not trusting himself to speak and knowing he had an idiotic grin on his face. Eileen straightened her back and resumed her sentry position, Sam did the same. Just in time, as the Captain and the Doctor walked into the shuttlebay with Geordi La Forge in tow.  
“Doctor, I still don’t quite understand what it is you are saying to me” Sam heard Commander La Forge say, he sounded frustrated.  
“Oh Geordi, I already explained this once.” The Doctor spun round holding out her hands. “Alright I’ll try one more time. The multiverse is like a library of books each slightly different” The Doctor paused and shook her head, “actually that’s wrong, some of them are really weird. There’s this one where there’s no yellow and another that’s just full of squirrels-”   
“Doctor the point?” Picard snorted, he sent Sam a glare, Sam pretended not to hear a word.  
“Alright sorry got distracted, anyway these different universe are held apart by this web of spacey wacey, timey whimey stuff”  
“Timey whimey?” Picard did not seem amused, Sam concentrated on staring at the shuttle-bay wall like it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen.  
“You’re right I have got to stop saying that” the Doctor started rooting around in the pockets of her coat. “so this stuff, the timelords call it the void, is null. No energy, nothing, but it’s disappearing and when that happens” The Doctor stopped, her expression suddenly anxious.  
“yes Doctor?” Geordi asked.  
“Well two or three things can happen, either the universes energy signatures cancel each other out and all life just sinks back into nothing” Now the Doctor was staring right at Sam.  
“Or?” Picard prompted.  
“Or they merge and time starts to die.”  
“How do you know?” Picard seemed to have completely forgotten about Sam and Eileen. The Doctor pulled a key triumphantly from her coat.  
“Ah, There it is!” she smiled happily. “To answer your question, it’s happened before. Usually it takes a paradox, alteration of a fixed point. It was my wife’s fault last time, but that was localised. This time it’s all over the place.” She slotted the key in the Tatdis door. “So Geordi we are going to hook the TARDIS sensors up to the Enterprise and using some genius and a little luck, find out where this all started.” The Doctor was looking at him again, Sam shifted uncomfortably.  
“What’s your name?”  
“Sam Winchester,”  
“Nice to meet you Sam” The Doctor turned to Picard, “I think I need to have a look at your crew manifest Jean Luc.”


End file.
